A tiny chapter but hey, at least it didn't take a few months this time.
Harmony frowned at herself in her full-length mirror. What was it about her that made her look so weird? Her legs? Her stomach? Her arms? She couldn't tell, and that's what frustrated her the most.
"Harmony? Breakfast!" Ms. Winfeld called from the kitchen.
"Coming," Harmony muttered back. She glanced at herself in the mirror one last time, pursing her lips as she tried to figure out what was wrong.
"Harmony?"
"I'm coming, geez!" Harmony rolled her eyes. How could her mother focus on something as insignificant as breakfast when Harmony looked like...well, Harmony?
Harmony stormed down the stairs, hating herself and the world. She paused before entering the kitchen, taking a moment to wipe the tears out of the corners of her eyes. It's okay, she tried to tell herself. It'll be fine. I just have to wait until tomorrow. Yeah, tomorrow. Even as Harmony thought the words, though, she knew they weren't true. She'd never be even remotely pretty.
Harmony stepped into the kitchen, trying to look normal. She spotted her mom sitting at the counter, cutting into a pancake.
"Finally, Harmony," Ms. Wilfeld said, glancing up from her plate. She nodded towards the apple next to her. "I just washed this for you. There are some more pancakes in the pan."
Harmony looked from the apple, to the stove, and then down at her stomach.
"I'm not that hungry," Harmony lied. "I'll just have a..." Harmony scanned the room, her eyes landing on a box of Ritz. "I'll just have a cracker." She plucked a broken one out of the box and stuck the piece into her mouth.
"What about the apple?" Ms. Wilfeld motioned towards the apple again.
"I'll eat it at lunch," Harmony promised, starting to get annoyed.
"It'll go bad by then!" Ms. Wilfeld replied. "It's hand-washed!"
"Don't worry, I--ugh! What do you even mean by 'hand-washed'?" Harmony couldn't hold back her emotions any longer. The hatred she felt towards herself came bubbling out, except it was directed towards her mom instead. "I'll eat it at lunch, okay? Why are you always trying to control my life?" She grabbed a bottle of cold water from the fridge, then slammed the fridge closed and ran back to her room, pushing the guilt down deep inside of her as she went.
As soon as her bedroom door was shut, Harmony lowered herself on the ground and started doing anger-fueled sit-ups.
"One, two, three..." Harmony counted out loud under her breath as she mentally bombarded herself with a flood of insults. What is wrong with you? Why are you so stupid and ugly and horrible? No wonder no one likes you. Who would like someone like you? You're never going to get anywhere in life. You couldn't even fully skip breakfast for one day! You're such an ugly troll, you lazy girl!
"...ninety-nine, one hundred." Harmony flopped onto the ground, staring up at the ceiling as she let herself catch her breath. Was one hundred enough? Maybe not...
Harmony pushed herself off the ground and went back to stand in front of her mirror, scrutinizing herself as she turned side to side. She knew a hundred sit-ups wouldn't make her suddenly beautiful, but maybe a hundred sit-ups a day wasn't quite enough in general. Harmony pondered this for a moment, then got back down on the floor, getting ready for another four hundred.
YOU ARE READING
Vanishing Act
Teen Fiction*cover under construction* Meet Harmony Wilfeld. Harmony was not a people person. She didn't like people, people didn't like her. It was all okay. So she began to vanish.
